


Lessons in Nobility

by kayisdreaming



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: And several boys are oblivious, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, M/M, Multi, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Where basically Ferdinand and Sylvain start trying to understand eachother, including some different love languages, little to no angst, mostly just a cute character study because we were neglected I tell you, with minor appearances by Bernadetta and Felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22263202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayisdreaming/pseuds/kayisdreaming
Summary: Sylvain's flirtatious behavior has finally reached its last straw for Edelgard and her two advisers. Her solution? Get the man most dedicated to noble behavior to handle it. Fortunately (or unfortunately), that means it falls to Ferdinand.__Summary: Ferdinand teaches Sylvain how to act more noble, and Sylvain shares some of his romantic knowledge to try and get Ferdinand to relax a bit (love languages, cute fluff, etc.). Primarily Ferdinand x Hubert, with some light sprinkles of Sylvain x Felix. Mostly it's just the boys trying to understand each other.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ferdinand von Aegir & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 10
Kudos: 303





	Lessons in Nobility

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt my friend gave me was "Ferdinand teaching Sylvain how to be more noble" and I got carried away. Enjoy~

"Overall, the dignitaries' visit was a success. We have secured further trade agreements and it appears the relationships have improved significantly." Ferdinand was not generally one for discomfort, but he couldn't ignore the way his weight shifted from one leg to another. "I will admit that it was . . . close . . . at some points.

Edelgard, regal as ever upon her throne, blinked slowly. "I don't recall anything significant. What happened?"

Ferdinand groaned, hardly surprised at all to hear an echoing sentiment from Hubert nearby. "It was the Margrave."

Edelgard's head tilted, resting delicately upon her knuckles. "Sylvain? What of him?"

Ferdinand hadn't exactly planned on including this in his report to the Emperor. But the fact still stood that Sylvain could have ruined everything. Weeks--no months--of arduous work could have gone up entirely in smoke. That, plus the fact that it was so entirely appalling, made it impossible to keep to himself.

The sheer lack of nobility had Ferdinand responding with a little more fervor than he probably should have. "He thought it fit to flirt with the Duke's wife! His wife!"

"We are fortunate that the Duke was preoccupied speaking with Your Majesty, and the Lady in question thought it was a national tradition to flatter." Hubert crossed his arms, scowl deepening. "We are equally fortunate the Prime Minister noticed when he did, lest we would have an international conflict on our hands."

"That is concerning." Edelgard tapped her cheek with her finger, a small crease between her brows. "What to do . . ."

"Perhaps you should allow me." Hubert mused, that drawl threatening a man not present, and completely unnecessary and ineffective for his current audience. "I assure you he will no longer be a problem."

Edelgard's gaze slid over to her loyal retainer. Her lips half-twitched at a frown. All three knew that, even if his idea was denied, there was little chance that Hubert _wouldn't_ take it upon himself to solve the matter. "That's too . . . extreme for the matter at hand."

"I agree." Ferdinand mused, arms crossed. "Sylvain was, and remains to be, a loyal follower under the Emperor. He is a capable fighter to fight alongside, and remains an invaluable asset. I do not imagine we would be able to maintain the border with Sreng if it was not for his diligence." Though he meant every word, he had to shrink a bit when saying his next statement. "His . . . habits . . . are simply the troublesome ones."

Hubert scowled. "It reflects poorly upon our reputations."

"I will admit it," running a frustrated hand through his hair, Ferdinand sighed heavily, "if only he could act a little more noble, we would not have this issue."

A snap echoed in the room. "That's it!" Edelgard smiled. "Ferdinand, you must teach him how to act like a proper noble."

Ferdinand gaped. Sure, it was one think to criticize Sylvain's behavior. It was a different thing entirely to be responsible for remedying it. "I am, of course, flattered. But I doubt even ordering him directly would curb his habits."

Edelgard didn't seem deterred in the slightest, and smiled slightly. "I am well aware that ordering him to be a noble man would be fruitless. Regardless, what he does on his own time is his business." Her fingers tapped on her throne in an even rhythm. "But he needs to recognize when his behaviors are and are not acceptable. In particular, Sylvain may be as deviant as he pleases; I need the Margrave to act responsibly. I am sure you understand."

"I understand, of course, but--"

"Good." Edelgard looked pleased. "Only the most noble Ferdinand von Aegir could manage this."

Ferdinand bit down on further protest. True, if anyone were to instruct a hopeless cause on being more noble, it would be Ferdinand von Aegir. But this was far from hopeless--he imagined it would be nearly impossible.

But it would be positively ignoble to refuse an order from the Emperor. He bowed slightly. "I understand."

  
  


When Sylvain was summoned to listen to these new orders for himself, Ferdinand tried to subdue any possible insecurities and look as confident about the matter as possible.

To Sylvain's credit, degenerate though he may be, he didn't reject Edelgard's orders for 'lessons in nobility'.

  
  


Ferdinand had been overly, keenly, painfully aware that this was a challenge. However, sitting across from Sylvain over tea now, he was sure that he had greatly underestimated the task.

It was simple, in theory. They were just supposed to talk about the business and status of the Gautier estate. Keep Sylvain focused on the matter, and encourage better behavior. Ferdinand enlisted an old strategy used toward noble children: pinching the back of Sylvain's hand every time he slipped. Like when his attention shifted entirely to a girl passing by, or his conversation began to lean into the unscrupulous.

Sylvain's hand was practically neon red before they were halfway through their first cup of tea.

Despite the pain, it was impossible to deny that Sylvain looked horribly and miserably bored. His chin sat heavily upon his fist, leaning forward against the table. There was a smile upon his lips, but it was strange.

"That really is not the proper way to hold yourself." Ferdinand reminded, before taking another sip. He held off on pinching him again, Sylvain's pain bringing him no sense of pleasure.

Sylvain sighed heavily, but complied. He leaned back against his chair, shoulders straightening into a more proper form. "I'm not sure what you want me to say. It's always the same with Gautier."

Ferdinand took another pointed sip. It wasn't his favorite kind--not even in the top ten--but it was an easy way to mind his own manners. "You do not need to be specific. This is practice, if you recall. Imagine what you would say to me, if I were . . . the Emperor, for instance."

Sylvain smiled. "I would be saying vastly different things. _Certainly_ a different elaboration on the skills of Gautie--ow!" He pulled his hand back quickly, the pinch far more pointed than any of the others had been.

Ferdinand placed his cup upon its platter with a sigh. "Your conversation should be clear, addressing what your partner desires. In this case, I wished to know how your household was doing. Which, admittedly, you have told me."

Sylvain smiled, but it was more chilling than anything genuine. The more they spoke, the more Ferdinand realized that most of Sylvain's smiles made him uncomfortable. This one was especially so. Then again, he supposed it was deserved; it wasn't as if he had done anything to earn a legitimate smile.

He sighed. "The point of the matter is that we are still at tea. So, when you are at a loss to the conversation, you should make your partner feel welcome, and happy to be there. Frankly, you should have the same attitude even when you are speaking matters of business."

The smile slid away into something completely deadpan. "Like a date."

Ferdinand felt a little color on his cheeks. He had never really considered it that way. "Well, yes, I suppose. But with no implicit expectation of your attention being returned."

The smile returned. Still uncomfortable, but not as bad as before. "Then, yes, like a date."

With a sigh, Ferdinand considered his tea. It seemed like a bit of a stalemate here. He couldn't really come up with a way to explain it where Sylvain would just understand. Or, perhaps he did understand--just twisted it because he was as annoyed by this endeavor as Ferdinand expected him to be. That would require some tactical skill, though. Proper conversational skill, not just the average chatter.

Sylvain sighed. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't be the worst date I've had. To be fair, you have the best hair of my more recent ones."

Before Ferdinand could put down his tea, Sylvain had reached across the table, wrapping several strands of hair around his fingers. The smile shifted again.

With an eyebrow raised, Ferdinand placed his cup down again. In a fluid moment, he took Sylvain's wrist in one hand, and pinched the back of his hand with the other. " _This_ is the behavior we were speaking of."

Sylvain frowned, looking as if Ferdinand had offended his honor. If there were any of it left. "You're not even flustered." He complained.

Ferdinand sighed as he released Sylvain's hand. "I know what to expect of you. Why would this embarrass me?"

Sylvain huffed a short laugh. "Well, at least _som_ e _one_ knows."

His gaze slid off, and Ferdinand shifted his hand to scold as his eyes followed. But there wasn't anyone there. No traversing women, no patrolling knights, no one. When he looked back to Sylvain, he looked somewhat distant, gaze far off. His shoulders had fallen, too. It was as if his mood had deflated entirely. The shift was admittedly jarring.

Ferdinand pressed his lips together, pulling back his hand and returning his attention to the tea. He tried to ignore how hard Sylvain's fingers pressed into his own cup.

It was honestly a bit shameful, really, that he couldn't practice what he preached. At least not in this odd moment with Sylvain.

As if the mood was as fleeting as an insect, Sylvain shifted back into a carefree smile and lifted his cup to his lips. He paused, just before drinking, and that smile widened. "Angelica tea?"

Ferdinand blinked. "Oh, do you not like it?"

A shrug. "Just enjoying the irony. It's supposed to be inspiring, and yet I don't feel very inspired."

Ferdinand blinked again. "Unfortunately, it was all that was available on such short notice."

And Sylvain laughed in response. "You should be careful. Avoid the flowery ones, if you can."

"I will aim to pick something more to your taste next time."

"That's not what I mean. Thought you might want to avoid an accidental confession."

Ferdinand's lips pressed tightly together. The two things didn't seem to make sense, at least not in combination. What could one possibly confess with tea? Their poor sense of taste? Their extensive skill, or lack thereof in its preparation?

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke Ferdinand from his thoughts. He glanced up, greeted by a familiar frown and expression nearly covered by short black hair.

Oh right. He and Hubert's meeting had changed. There wasn't enough opportunity in the evening, so they were to meet an hour after the lesson had started with Sylvain. And, if Ferdinand properly considered the shift of the sun, that would mean . . .

Immediately, Ferdinand could feel his face heat up. "I am terribly sorry! I did not realize the time. I will be right there."

Hubert's hand rested gently on Ferdinand's shoulder, as if that would just ground him and eliminate all concerns. To be fair, it did at least ease his panic.

Hubert didn't smile, not really, but Ferdinand was familiar enough with the other to know the warmth was still there. "You may take your time." He said. "I understand this task is . . . daunting."

"Harsh." Sylvain complained.

Hubert's lips quirked. A cold gaze slid to Sylvain, but it hardly lingered. "I will be in the study."

Ferdinand watched as Hubert retreated back into the palace. His shoulders were stiff--meaning there was likely a rather unpleasant amount of documents awaiting the both of them in the study. Hubert always did tend to get annoyed when mundane matters pulled him from Edelgard for too long. But he was always equally annoyed when Ferdinand suggested that he could handle it on his own. It wasn't necessary for both of them to over-occupy their time with the same matter.

When he looked back to his tea partner, Sylvain's smile had shifted into something thoughtful, and his weight shifted forward once more.

Ferdinand sighed, finishing the contents of his cup. "I apologize, but I will need to end our session for today."

Sylvain shrugged. "Wouldn't want to incur Hubert's wrath. Totally get it."

A smile tugged at the edges of his lips as he rose from his seat. "We will meet again tomorrow. As this is not going as well as I would prefer . . . I would advise that you avoid any individuals of significance for the time being. While the Empire is not suffering, I do not imagine we are stable enough to avoid an incident."

Sylvain offered a halfhearted salute. "I will be on my best behavior."

  
  


Being late was certainly not noble, but Ferdinand knew he could not scold Sylvain for it when he himself had been later than anticipated. His ride had unintentionally gone long, even though he had taken several shortcuts back when he realized the potential for his error.

But, if he was late, it was only by a couple minutes. And he had waited at the tea table for Sylvain for fifteen. Which meant that Sylvain had likely used the momentarily delay to consider their appointment canceled, and wander off to . . . to things that Ferdinand would rather not think about.

With a sigh, he rose from his seat and went to pursue Sylvain.

Of course, that was a task easier said than done. Sure, Ferdinand knew a couple of Sylvain's usual haunts--the ballroom, the great hall, occasionally the training grounds--but he wasn't there. Nor was he in the professor's greenhouse, or the wing with the bedchambers, or the kitchen.

In all honesty, he had to admit that he understood so little of Sylvain that he couldn't even begin to guess where he might be during his free time. Crowded places, certainly. Places where there were plenty of women, likely. But Ferdinand had walked pretty much the whole palace already, and Sylvain wasn't in any of those possible places.

He sighed, hand on the door to the library. If Sylvain wasn't here, then he wasn't in the palace. Which would mean he explicitly went against the emperor's orders. And it wasn't as if Ferdinand could protect him on his report--it would go against everything noble to be dishonest. Which could, possibly, encourage Edelgard to make use of Hubert's methods.

He stepped inside, looking around the room. Tall shelves obscured an easy view, but he could still hear the muffled sounds of conversation. Odd, as the library was usually empty--when Lindhart came, he would take what he needed, then flee to his room to enjoy his studies, research, and naps in relative peace. Byleth and the Emperor would come here on occasion as well, but they were most certainly not studying in the privacy of this place. Otherwise, it was fairly empty most of the time.

But when he glanced around a bookshelf, he saw Sylvain's familiar form there, accompanied by one he barely ever saw. There was Sylvain, leaning close to Bernadetta, very nearly touching. He whispered into her ear, voice so soft and quiet that Ferdinand could only determine that he _was_ talking by his lips moving. And by the fact that Bernadetta looked more and more frazzled with each word.

That sight of poor Bernadetta in distress compelled Ferdinand to act.

He stormed over quickly, standing directly behind Sylvain, arms crossed. "You were told to behave." He scowled, trying to make his voice to sound as intimidating as possible (and, to his dismay, he still couldn't quite grasp the same sort of intimidation that Hubert could manage).

It wasn't effective at all, by the way Sylvain looked blandly up at him.

It was, however, unfortunately effective on Bernadetta. She slammed her book shut with a squeak, practically jumping up from her seat. In a blink, she was already across the path, retreating more each second. "I-I-I'm sorry to intrude!" She practically bawled, nearly stumbling as she backed away. She spun around, then spun right back. "T-Thank you Sylvain. I will keep your advice in mind. Not that it's not good enough to use. Or that your advice is bad. It's actually quite good. I just--I'm sorryyyyy!" The 'sorry' practically followed her down the hall as she fled in one long syllable.

Ferdinand winced at the sound of the door slamming shut. Well, that wasn't entirely what he had in mind. With a frustrated sigh, his gaze shifted back down to Sylvain, who looked amused. "You could not manage for twenty-four hours?"

Sylvain smiled. "I wasn't doing anything improper."

"So then what was that display? How can you expect me to believe otherwise?"

"You mean the 'privacy in the library' part, or the 'Bernie ran away' part?"

Arms still crossed, Ferdinand tapped his forefinger against his arm. The latter was always inevitable. Even in the best of conversations, with Bernadetta as pleased and catered to as possible, she would always run away. It was easy to understand now, and easier to not be insulted by it. But in reality she should have run away from Sylvain ages ago. _Especially_ considering Sylvain's manners. "The former."

"And what's so surprising about privacy in the library?"

"Even here, Bernadetta does not linger anywhere, unless the Emperor specifically asks for it. I mean no offense, but I do not imagine that she would do otherwise, unless you have found some way to appeal to . . ." He didn't even want to finish that thought, especially when thinking of Bernadetta.

Sylvain's lips quirked. Amused, but not especially so. Hubert made a similar expression when he was attempting to be polite on the Emperor's orders. "Did you know Bernadetta's a writer?"

"I am aware she is immensely skilled with many arts, yes."

"Well, I was just helping her through a scene." He shrugged. "She's been struggling with it since the last time I saw her."

Ferdinand blinked. "Of all things, you are not known for your literary talents. How could you possibly be of assistance?"

"She's never really experienced it, so she doesn't know how to write it. One man is pining, and the other is painfully oblivious." He rested his hands behind his head. "I'm a professional at pining, so I provided some . . . insights."

Ferdinand wasn't keen on this insight, especially considering how lascivious they likely were. He raised a single brow.

"Oh, you know. Secret confessions. Gentle touches, tea or bouquets with jasmine or pink camellia, secret poems, those sorts of things. Simple, stupidly romantic things."

Ferdinand frowned. "You do not strike me as one particularly familiar with romance."

Sylvain's mouth opened, and Ferdinand dreaded what he was about to say. Instead, though, he seemed to reconsider it and shrugged. Whether it was a revision for Ferdinand's or Sylvain's sake, he didn't really want to know. "Girls just eat that up."

Lips pressed together, Ferdinand picked an apple blossom from his hair. At the time, he thought it was a mistake to take the shortcut through the apple orchard (especially since it was going to take forever to get all the blossoms and pollen out). But now it seemed like the best strategy to tell if Sylvain was telling the truth. If he was as good as guide for Bernadetta as he implied, then he could prove it.

He offered the blossom to Sylvain. "Then what does this mean?"

Sylvain took it with a hum and spun the blossom between his fingers. " _I prefer you above all others_." Despite the implication, Sylvain's tone was almost agonizingly bland. He tilted his head. "Best relayed in teas or alongside sweets. They don't do particularly well in bouquets."

Ferdinand blinked. "And what would you use in the cases where you wished to relay good bonds?"

"What, like in an agreement?"

Ferdinand nodded.

Sylvain looked somewhere on the precipice between amused and bored. " _If_ they know Fodlan flower language, maybe something with geraniums, sage, violets. Something like that. Oh, but not with Brigid. Those things have a different history there. Petra gave me a right scolding on that one."

"Hm." Well, that was surprising. But it wasn't like he had assumed thatSylvainhad _no_ skills. He, and probably everyone else in their class, had just been clueless on what those were--at least outside the battlefield. "You know, that could assist with several future negotiations--or events! I imagine there are a great many who would appreciate such a subtle touch."

Sylvain shrugged, leaning against the table. "It might."

  
  


"I will preface my report with the fact that I do not believe Sylvain to be a completely hopeless cause." Ferdinand said, hands linked behind his back. "However, I am not so bold as to claim that he will behave properly with any people of significance, at least if left to his own devices."

Edelgard nodded. "Mm, and what else?"

"Well, there have been significantly fewer complaints from the servants or knights. I would consider that a marked improvement from before."

Edelgard's gaze shifted over to her retainer, a single eyebrow raised. "Either this is working, or he found a more interesting target to pursue."

Hubert scowled, arms crossed. He was quiet in consideration, weight shifting slightly between his feet. "As long as he is not bothering you, he may keep his head."

"I assure you," Ferdinand smiled, "he would not do anything that foolish."

Hubert didn't even bother to hide his disdain. "I am not so confident he even knows it would be unwise."

A laugh passed unintentionally from Ferdinand's lips. "He may act a fool, but I am certain he is otherwise. He is surprisingly intelligent, and I am sure he has some talents that would prove a benefit to the empire."

He tried not to laugh again at Edelgard's and Hubert's expressions.

Well, perhaps he was the only one who saw some potential in Sylvain, then. That was a shame. "Admittedly, I am still determining what those talents are."

The scoff was unmistakably Hubert's. "I'm sure he's very talented."

Once again, the Emperor looked over to her retainer. There was some meaning behind the look they shared, but there was _always_ something behind their looks. Even after knowing them so long, he was horrible at reading them. It was possible they had already started to plan Sylvain's assassination.

Hubert sighed. "International relations is your business. If you believe you can make use of his habits, I have no reason to stop you." A sly smile passed along his lips, though it was quick to vanish. "I am surprised this farce has lasted so long. If anyone, it appears you may be able to make something of it."

  
  


With Ferdinand's (relatively positive) report, Sylvain was allowed to go into the city of Enbarr. But only as long as he was accompanied by Ferdinand. As Ferdinand was exceedingly aware that it was easy to get lost (or lose someone) in the city, he decided to start it slow. They entered on a general patrol, on horseback. Where it would be considerably easier to stay together.

But, as the day went on, it seemed that the precaution was unnecessary. Sylvain seemed distracted, sullen. He hardly seemed to notice the townswomen as they went by, even when they openly greeted him. Ferdinand didn't even have to discourage him. It was as if he was doing it on his own.

Normally, it would be encouraging to see such a display. But like this seemed wrong.

"Are you unwell?" He asked, bringing his horse alongside Sylvain's.

"Ah, probably just a bit homesick." Sylvain shrugged. "I'm not usually stuck in the Capital for this long."

That was understandable, but didn't really seem like the case. Sylvain always seemed to complain whenever he had to handle business back in Gautier territory. Sure, he always went when it came to the usual timing for Sreng's incursions, but at any other time he would complain as loudly as possible. And this was definitely not the usual timing for any potential assaults.

Oh, but his usual distractions here were gone. Most had business to handle for the summer months--the operas were in full force so Dorothea had no time to spare, Mercedes was back helping the orphanage, Petra and Ashe were in Brigid, even Bernadetta and Felix were handling some business for the Emperor. It was possible that he was just lonely, being stuck with Ferdinand all the time.

"You know," he said, offering Sylvain a smile, "you do not need to be so concerned. Bernadetta and Felix will be back soon--the mission the Emperor gave them was challenging, but by no means exceedingly dangerous."

Sylvain's gaze snapped over, eyes wide in surprise. It was the most expressive he had been all day. "What?"

Ah, so that's what it was. "Bernadetta may be a recluse, but she is still quite skilled. Extremely skilled, actually."

Sylvain still looked a little stunned. "I know that."

"I have also heard that she and Felix are rather amiable. I doubt he would let anything happen to her."

Sylvain nodded, gaze shifting back to the path before them. "Mhm." His gaze fell over a couple of lovely women as they passed by, but it didn't really seem to stick.

Unless it was possible that Sylvain's taste was narrowing. Which would make excursions like this rather pointless.

Ferdinand would have to be sure.

"Perhaps you would entertain a question?" He asked.

Sylvain raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I can stop you."

"How to put it . . ." He pressed his lips together, already feeling a bit of heat in his cheeks, "what is it that you look for with your . . . company?"

Lips curled into a smile, though the look in his eyes was the same. "Asking for pointers?"

"Genuine curiosity. I would like to think we are close enough that I might . . . try to understand you. Even if I do not agree."

"Huh." Sylvain considered it and shrugged, head tilting. "All I look for is the company. Someone to keep the bed warm--you know how it is."

Ferdinand's jaw dropped. 'Appalled' would not be descriptive enough of his sentiment. "Absolutely not."

The smile fell, but only slightly. "Oh? Well, let me guess . . . hm . . . you really need to care for someone before you share their sheets?"

That damned blush was back. "Of course. That is the proper way to do it."

Sylvain raised an eyebrow.

Ferdinand had to press his palm to his forehead to try and drive away the threatening headache. There was no way that this was all there was to it. This could be far more impossible than he thought. "Please don't tell me all those women you are famous for chasing is . . . is . . ."

Sylvain laughed. "It's not that deep. I'm not attached, and they're not really in it for me, either. It's a fairly decent arrangement, if you think about it."

This was horrible. "Have you ever been attached to _anyone_?"

That seemed to catch Sylvain off guard, at least forcing a moment of silence. Ferdinand looked up between his fingers. His expression was almost pensive. Sad, even.

It made Ferdinand feel awful. "Ah . . . I was out of place. You do not need to answer that."

"You say we're friends, right?"

"Well, yes. I would like to think so."

Sylvain seemed to relax a little. "Between you and me? Just one."

Ferdinand blinked. "Truly?"

"Yeah. But it's . . . different." He laughed, but it certainly sounded forced. "It's not so . . . explicit."

Ah, so that explained the secret language. Whoever it was, it was the person he learned it for. And, it seemed, that person seemed oblivious to anything subtle. So, as it seemed to have failed, Sylvain still chased anything with a pulse. Just to keep some company when he couldn't have the one he wanted.

Possibly, though, he had never really tried at all. Maybe he just didn't want to.

"I appreciate your trust." Ferdinand said, smiling softly. He didn't need to press further. Sylvain's sullen expression seemed explanation enough.

  
  


When Bernadetta and Felix returned, unscathed, it was as if Sylvain's disposition flipped entirely. He greeted them the second they stepped into the palace, one arm firmly around Felix's shoulders, and the other just barely brushing over Bernadetta's. He chattered on endlessly, even though both seemed standing directly on the line between amusement and irritation (or terror, in Bernadetta's case).

It was surprising, the way Sylvain touched Bernadetta. His hands brushed in a way that both encouraged her to stay, but would not resist if she fled. _Gentle touches,_ wasn't that what Sylvain had said?

And, while reluctant, Bernadetta did not seem entirely opposed. Instead, she fretfully spoke to Sylvain and Felix both, trying to keep Felix from outright knocking Sylvain unconscious. Felix seemed particularly undeterred, annoyance burning red in his face, and Sylvain seemed entirely oblivious. But still she stayed around, not fleeing just yet.

Ferdinand brought his knuckles to his chin, tapping it lightly as he considered. Soft touches would keep Bernadetta more grounded, less likely to feel trapped. And, surely, anything of an explicit nature would force her to retreat entirely. Which would force Sylvain to take a different avenue. Perhaps it was the difference that attracted Sylvain. And, since she was still speaking to him, he doubted Sylvain had ever fully courted her.

But, if he was interested in her, then why was he still chasing other women?

  
  


"It is frustrating." Ferdinand sighed, idly tapping his pen against the paper. "If I do not fully understand him, then there is no possible way to complete this."

"I assume you are speaking of Sylvain." Hubert said, glancing over at the teapot with tea still steeping.

"Yes." Ferdinand leaned heavily against his fist, frown deepening a bit. "He is improving, but . . ."

Hubert sipped at his coffee. Though he looked at it with a bit of distaste--Ferdinand had accidentally made it a bit too bitter in his distraction--he didn't mention it. "You speak of it as a burden, and yet you seem to be enjoying yourself."

Ferdinand shrugged slightly, expression softly shifting to a smile. "It is not a miserable assignment, I will admit it. Less so the more I begin to understand him. But . . . I do not understand him enough. And I doubt he will tolerate my interference forever."

Hubert hummed in response as he poured the tea. "He will, so long as Her Majesty demands it." He shifted to pass the cup to Ferdinand. "If he is as wise as you imply, that is."

Ferdinand reached for the cup, but Hubert's hands were in the wrong place to make it easy. Not wishing to make it awkward, he took it anyway, feeling the immediate urge to apologize when his fingers brushed Hubert's. "Ah, I apologize. And thank you."

Hubert nodded an acknowledgment, returning to his document.

Ferdinand inhaled softly, enjoying the smell of his favorite tea. It was always far easier to handle the paperwork with it. No doubt Hubert provided it just for that reason.

  
  


Ferdinand spat again in annoyance. His hair stuck to his tongue, whipping around with every gust of wind. And somehow it just was attracted to bunching in his mouth. Times like this, he wished he allowed himself the luxury of getting it cut.

He had tried braiding it already, hoping that it would make it easier to tend to the horses. But, within minutes, it just fell out again. And every time it just to seemed to smack him in the face more as if to spite him.

"You look like you need some help." Sylvain chuckled, watching as Ferdinand's hair somehow wound up tangled in the horse comb. "Let me braid it for you."

Ferdinand sighed, trying to pluck out the strands. "Believe me, I have tried."

"Look," Sylvain placed a hand on Ferdinand's shoulder, "worst case, it doesn't work."

Well, that was true. With a hum, Ferdinand moved one of the nearby stools and sat upon it. "Fair enough."

Sylvain's fingers were almost immediately in Ferdinand's hair, separating out into sections. He seemed rather quick and efficient about the whole matter. His fingers were nimble, able to stay to task even with the wind against him. Ferdinand couldn't see, so he didn't know for sure, but there were definitely a couple different braids that were being pulled together into one.

"So," Sylvain mused, pulling in a few stray hairs at the nape of Ferdinand's neck, "say I'm into this whole . . . noble . . . thing. Then how would I go about pursuing someone I liked?"

Ferdinand blinked, head shifting. He hoped he didn't ruin Sylvain's work in doing so. "I suppose the noblest action would be to demonstrate your intentions are not . . . shallow."

He could hear a laugh in Sylvain's voice. "Is it noble to be so vague?"

Ferdinand blushed slightly, dipping his head. "I am afraid I am not well versed in such matters."

"I guess that makes sense." Sylvain pulled the tie from Ferdinand's wrist, using it to tie off the braid. "I've never really seen you with anyone but Hubert. Outside of business, that is. Hey, scoot."

Sylvain nudged Ferdinand off the pail. He picked it up, flipping it so that Ferdinand could use it to gauge his reflection. Ferdinand looked at it, smiling more the more he turned his head. It was a rather impressive braid, really. A couple braids curved over his head like a crown, pulled back into a rather elegant french braid in the back. It was actually incredibly impressive.

"Where did you learn how to do this?"

Sylvain shrugged and smiled. "Two of my childhood friends had long hair. I had to get good at it, or get hit for pulling hair." His gaze shifted. That far-off look again. "It's . . . been a long time since I've been able to do that . . ."

"That makes sense." Ferdinand smiled brightly. "Thank you, Sylvain."

With that, it was very easy to return to his work in the stables. He didn't force Sylvain to stay with him--they already had their appointment after all. Besides, it was usually easier to take care of the hoses on his own. They didn't spook so much that way. And, aside from the occasional horse trying to nibble at his braid, he had no other concerns with his hair.

And, since it was so efficient to work with, he kept it in when he went to handle his evening business with Hubert. To be fair, it was a bit easier to look over the documents without his hair draping in the way.

With a hum, he looked over Hubert's set of proposals. Edelgard's propositions and matters at hand always had to have some review by the two of them. Hubert would often propose something extreme, and Ferdinand would suggest something that was perhaps too light-handed. However, discussed together, the balance seemed to work well.

His eyes scanned over one he could abide by. It was perhaps something he could not personally see to, but it was the most efficient action. Over another, though . . . "I truly think it is unnecessary to send such a retinue to Brigid. They do not need to be reminded of their relative strength. Petra is already incredibly aware, and it would be rude to press that further."

But there was no argument from Hubert. Not even an acknowledgment.

Ferdinand glanced up. Hubert was glaring at him--eyebrows pinched close and scowl prominent. But he had never really bothered with that as an answer before. Perhaps he was thinking. Or, perhaps, it was something else.

He glanced down at the cup before his moody companion, noticing the contents still mostly full. A shame--it would get cold soon. "Did I make it too strong again?" He asked. "I can make another."

Hubert's expression darkened further before he shifted his attention back to his paperwork. "No." He grumbled. He took a pointed sip of his cup. Well, at least he didn't grimace at it.

No doubt Hubert was focused on something else, something he refused to share with Ferdinand or Edelgard. He could only hope that he'd share before he tried anything particularly unsavory. Ferdinand sighed, sipping at his own tea.

He blinked, the flavor of his own drink catching him off guard. Of course, it would be presumptuous to think that Hubert had his preference every time. The market didn't always stock it. And this one wasn't too bad--it just tasted distinctly of roses.

  
  


As Sylvain's behavior appeared to improve, Ferdinand tried to come up with tasks that could accompany their lessons that wouldn't be entirely droll to Sylvain. Some were misses, but others weren't so bad. At the very least, they could enjoy some similarities between their skills.

This time, necessity drove their meeting place. They had a rather significant battle with bandits--perhaps they had been unwise in deciding on just the two of them to go--which had left their armor and weapons in a rather desperate need for repair. So there they sat in the armory, cleaning and polishing and working out the dents in their armor.

"Answer me this," Ferdinand said, tilting his armor so that he might use the light to find further dents, "should you be flirting--at all--when we have dignitaries visiting? Or when we are the ones visiting?"

Sylvain sighed dramatically, sharpening the tip of his lance. "No. And, if I wish to keep all my parts intact, I should keep them to myself till they're gone."

"Good answer." Ferdinand smiled. He wondered, vaguely, if he should test that. But was it worth it, if Sylvain could botch it in one go?

"Have you ever considered dating?" Sylvain asked.

The question caught Ferdinand off guard. He knew it showed in the tightness of his shoulders. "Of course I have."

He could feel Sylvain's gaze upon him. He could only avoid it so long. When he looked up, he saw Sylvain's eyes narrow, an eyebrow raised.

He could feel himself shrink a little, face red. "I have had . . . tea . . . with some women, of course."

"Dorothea doesn't count." Sylvain replied blandly. "She still can't stand you."

The flush came fully. "Well--I--I will have you know--" Ferdinand felt like his tongue was tied, fully uncooperative.

But, then again, how could he expect it to cooperate? Of course he couldn't name anyone. He couldn't even recall the last time he went for anything more than business or duty. Most people tended to be annoyed by his presence before he could even consider anything further. And it wasn't like he could lie--that was entirely indecent.

It was a little discomforting, to think that many people tended to respond to him in a similar vein as they did Sylvain.

"Well," he swallowed, "when was the last time you took someone on a date _without_ the expectation that you would take them to bed?"

Sylvain opened his mouth, but then grimaced. "I . . . haven't had one."

Distraction successful. Ferdinand sighed as he began to regain his composure. "If you had an ideal one, what would it be?"

Sylvain paused in his work, head tilted. "Mm, I would take them to dinner. Maybe in town. After working up an appetite, of course."

Ferdinand raised a brow and Sylvain laughed.

"No, no, not doing that!" The laugh took a while to subside, but it did. "Maybe . . . after sparring."

Ferdinand frowned. His mouth moved before his brain did. "Bernadetta is not really one for sparring."

Sylvain stared at him.

"I have heard her deny the professor's requests to perform in tournaments. Perhaps a reading session would encourage an appetite."

Sylvain blinked. It almost looked innocent. "Bernadetta?"

"Well, yes," Ferdinand could feel himself mirroring Sylvain's expression, "I had assumed that you two . . ."

Sylvain's laugh was loud, and far more sincere than his earlier one had been. "Absolutely not!" He said between snorts. "She's like a little sister. Fun to tease, and great to encourage, but a hundred percent platonic, I can guarantee you."

Ferdinand frowned, trying to figure out where he had miscalculated. It had seemed so obvious. He was gentle with her, kind in guiding her, and entirely intrigued by her skills and talents. Of course, those could be the same tenets of friendship. But with Sylvain and Bernadetta . . . well, judging by Sylvain's laughter, he had been entirely wrong, so it really didn't matter how reasonable it had been.

So, then, who could it possibly be?

"So," Sylvain said, after almost managing to stifle all of his laughter, "let's turn this on you, then. What is your best possible date? Over tea?"

Ferdinand knew he was likely being mocked, but truth was truth. "Of course! It is the best time to be honest with each other."

That smile didn't go away. "Well you and Hubert seem to have tea a lot. Wait, are you two dating? When it it start? Should I get you an anniversary gift?"

Ferdinand sputtered (how terribly ignoble), nearly dropping his polishing cloth. "No--of course not!" He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. "We simply have to work quite closely together. Our tempers clash so often, it is necessary to have something to . . . to mitigate them."

"Tempers . . . right . . ." Sylvain's smile quirked a bit more, and continued as he shrugged and returned to his work. "You know what, you're right. Hubert's a bit of a wet blanket, anyway."

It was one thing to insult Ferdinand. It was quite another to insult someone that Ferdinand had come to respect. "That is completely unnecessary. Hubert is loyal and diligent, certainly no wet blanket. I do not imagine I know anyone as dedicated as he is. And, while I do not always agree with his methods, I cannot deny that there is always some intelligence and creativity to them. To diminish those traits is--"

Sylvain raised one suggestive eyebrow and smiled.

Ferdinand could feel the flush return, _hard_. "We are far too different. He would never--"

"Opposites attract."

Ferdinand frowned. He wanted to just swing the pole of his spear down to force that ridiculous shrug of Sylvain's away. But that was the ruffian in him speaking, not the noble. "By that very line of logic, you could quite easily be attracted to Felix."

Sylvain gaped. His mouth shifted over a couple possibilities, but none of them found voice. And--with the longer he failed and the more Ferdinand stared--a slow blush crawled up his cheeks.

". . . Ah." Well, that certainly explained a few things. Sure, it seemed a bit unlikely that Bernadetta would have understood any subtle love languages. But, without any question, Felix _absolutely_ wouldn't. He wouldn't even consider it, let alone accept it. Sylvain's situation seemed to make far more sense.

"You can't tell him!" Sylvain finally stammered out, face shifting into something even redder. He leaned forward to try and grasp at Ferdinand's shoulders (was he afraid that the noble would tattle so quickly?), but his armor proved too much in the way and he missed entirely. "He would never speak to me again!"

Ferdinand smiled, emulating Sylvain's often shallow shrug. "It is not the noble way to gossip so. I can assure you that your secret is safe with me."

Sylvain looked unsure, lips pressed tightly together. Well, it was perhaps in _some_ noble's interest to gossip all the time.

Ferdinand reached over, lightly patting Sylvain's knee. "I promise. I will not tell him. We are friends, after all." His smile turned wry. "But, if I could be allowed a suggestion?"

Sylvain nodded numbly.

"Perhaps limit your flirtations with others around him. He appears to anger quite easily over that."

  
  


Ferdinand smiled as he stood before the emperor, hands held behind his back. He didn't really need any notes for this one. Perhaps it was too optimistic, but it seemed that he had finally crossed that last barrier to his understanding. Which meant that he finally had a strategy.

"I cannot be completely certain, but I do think we should test Sylvain's progress. Perhaps we could ask Petra to visit, with a small retinue to accompany her. I know she was close with Dorothea and a few others, so it would not be hard to convince her." He paused, considering. "She has close enough relations with the others here that I doubt my misjudgment would start a war."

"Oh?" Edelgard smiled, hardly attempting to hide her surprise. "Sylvain is that improved?"

"I would not say he is completely improved to act on his own. However, if he is accompanied during the duration, I have no doubt that he will mind himself."

Hubert scoffed. "I suppose you would be his company?"

Ferdinand blinked in response. "Me?"

Edelgard's smile was entirely of amusement. "You two have been close, after all. Amiable even. I find it quite believable that he would behave around you if you were to distract him."

A small chuckle escaped Ferdinand's lips, and so he had to try and bite it back. "Oh, I did not mean me."

Hubert's arms crossed. "Who, then?"

He could feel a bit of blood rush from his face. Admittedly, he hadn't really considered his report taking this line of thought. He had assumed that they might just accept it--as they accepted much of his opinion--and allow him to make the arrangements. He hadn't really thought that it would go deeper, and thus threaten his promise to Sylvain.

But it wasn't as if he couldn't reconcile this. After all, he doubted they understood Sylvain enough to have any inkling.

He cleared his throat. "Sylvain has complained often that Felix is far more critical of his actions than I could ever be. If you were to instruct Felix to mind his old friend, I have no doubt he would take it with greater fervor and strictness than anyone else."

Edelgard crossed her arms, eyes closing as she considered. "It wouldn't do for a permanent solution, but I believe we can convince Felix to do so once."

The sound of approaching steps pulled their attention. Byleth stood at the entrance, hands full of documents. "El?" They asked, head tilted slightly. "Do you think you could help me with these? I don't think I can handle all this on my own."

Ferdinand pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. The professor was more capable than all of them combined. It was sheer impossibility that they would be incapable of anything. This was an excuse. But one that all of Edelgard's most loyal allowed and played ignorant for. After all, it was in the best interest of Edelgard's health.

"Ah, yes, of course." Edelgard said, blinking. She stood from her throne, brushing her hands along her dress to straighten the pleats. She looked at Ferdinand with a somewhat sheepish expression--or at least as much as she could manage. "Is there anything you wish to add before I go, Ferdinand?"

Ferdinand kept his smile pleasant, as if he was woefully obtuse. It probably half-worked. "Not at all."

With a smile and nod, the Emperor dismissed herself.

"Excuse me." He said with a slight bow to Hubert, before turning on his heel to leave.

Ferdinand rubbed the back of his head as he walked, letting his fingers handle a bothersome tangle before pulling his hand out completely. He only allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief when he was sure he was well out of earshot. He really could have ruined that one. He'd have to be more wary in the future.

"I suppose," Hubert's entry into his space would be a startling intrusion for most people, but it was just normal now, "you will be disappointed when your lessons are no longer necessary."

"Why should I be disappointed?" Ferdinand asked, smiling brightly. "That would mean they were a success!"

Hubert glanced away, like Ferdinand's cheeriness was a bother. "Hm, for the same reason I am surprised you did not volunteer immediately to be his chaperon."

"It is true that I enjoy Sylvain's company," Ferdinand chuckled, "but there is only so much even I could take."

"I had the distinct impression otherwise."

Ferdinand momentarily stared at the doorknob to their study, forcing himself to open it before it looked too awkward. Even the few seconds didn't really help. He motioned for Hubert to enter with a kind and easygoing gesture, gaze following the other. "I'm not sure I understand."

Hubert glanced over at his shoulder, as if for the express purpose of Ferdinand viewing his scowl. With that, he shifted to their standard ritual and began heating the kettle for their respective drinks. "I mean this with all sincerity." Hubert said, taking his seat. "You are singularly the most oblivious man on this planet."

Ferdinand laughed, a little ashamed that he could not squash it at Hubert's clearly visible displeasure. "Surely I am not so bad." He said, taking his seat across from his companion.

Hubert scoffed, shifting his weight so that he might rest his cheek against his fist. Though Ferdinand could not see it, he knew Hubert's legs were crossed, as if he were a judge determining a verdict for one unworthy of his attentions. He wondered how often Hubert found him wanting.

It seemed as if they were gauging each other, just watching and waiting for the other to break. Not that Ferdinand was really playing so competitively right now. So he smiled, but he did not give in. If Hubert wished to elaborate, then he may. If he didn't, then--

Of course, the whistle of the kettle interrupted this match, and broke into Ferdinand's resolve.

It, however, did not seem to disturb Hubert's. Hubert poured some of the tea leaves into Ferdinand's teapot, then added the hot water. He looked down at it with a bit of disdain before passing the pot over. Ferdinand accepted it gratefully, placing it before his spot at the table. Its usual place, just close enough in reach to his cup and saucer.

"What it it?" Ferdinand chuckled, shifting his tea spoon. It was in the wrong place, though that had entirely been his fault when he placed his paperwork the night before.

"His eyes follow you everywhere," Hubert pulled the kettle off the fire, "it is impossible not to notice."

"Is that so?" Ferdinand mused. The tea smelled light, meaning that he shouldn't let it steep terribly long. It wasn't his fruit blend--he knew that smell by heart--but he wasn't entirely sure. It was best to be cautious.

He poured a small amount, testing the strength. Yes, this would be fine. Of course, it tasted somewhat of . . . "Is this apple?"

Hubert had preoccupied himself with handling his own beverage, and only granted a sidelong glance. "They did not have your preference."

Though particularly ignoble, Ferdinand leaned forward against the table and rested his chin in his palm. Hubert never seemed to mind these lapses, sometimes even reveled in them. Besides, it helped him think better.

What _had_ Sylvain said about apple blossoms?

The gentlest pull of his hair brought him back to reality. He looked down, noticing Hubert untangling his hair from where it had unintentionally wrapped around a button (long hair, still a burden). The brightness of the strands was rather stark compared to his always ridiculously white glove. Ferdinand shifted to make it a little easier--there was no point trying to take over now when he was almost done.

"If I recall," Hubert's voice was barely above a mumble, "he was also overly eager to braid your hair. And boasted quite loudly about it afterward."

"It was a very good braid." Ferdinand mused. His gaze slip up from Hubert's fingers to his face. He looked so annoyed. "Were you watching over me?"

Hubert's fingers froze, if only momentarily. Slowly, he slid back into a position more relaxed, though still particularly stiff (well, stiff for Hubert). He seemed to struggle with getting the very last few strands loose. "As I mentioned. You are so oblivious at times that I am certain that you would not know if he were attempting to seduce you as he has his other conquests. It was for your safety, lest you begin to be coerced into his room for . . . 'company'."

Ferdinand chuckled. "You do not think I would have noticed?"

Hubert's lips slid into a sly mockery of a smile. "I do not."

Ferdinand looked away--casually, of course, certainly not in any way reminiscent of embarrassment. Was that vase new? Of course not. It was hardly a decent thing to focus on to distract himself.

Except the flowers in it were unexpectedly fresh. He always preferred flowers in his room--kept things more lively--but he honestly hadn't much of the opportunity to fill the empty vase. But it wasn't like the servants would place any there. And none of them were likely to know of his preference for carnations--usually they just put in roses or lilies or things like that. Plus, it wasn't like carnations--red ones in particular--were easy to come by in this area.

"Ah." He breathed, recalling just what it was Sylvain said about the apple blossoms. Perhaps he _was_ just that oblivious. It made him blush in a mixture of embarrassment and shame. "Were you jealous of Sylvain, Hubert?"

Hubert scowled. It was a little sad that he didn't really seem to color at all, but he did run a hand through his bangs. That was . . . new. "I am certainly not in need of your absurd 'nobility lessons.'"

Of course. That was probably all this was about. Ferdinand deflated slightly, but he tried not to let it show. "Of course not. How silly of me."

Hubert was quiet, probably still annoyed at the implications.

Ferdinand let out a breath. "I did not mean to--"

"I will admit to some envy." Hubert curled the now-free strands of Ferdinand's hair around his finger.

Ferdinand flushed. "Oh?"

The blush seemed to spur Hubert on, and he dipped his head slightly to kiss the auburn hair between his fingers. Ferdinand's blush only deepened, and Hubert smiled. "I envied that he had all of your time."

It took all Ferdinand had to maintain some semblance of composure. He knew he was failing. Miserably. "W-well in light of . . . recent events . . . I . . . appear to have significantly more now."

Hubert smiled--an actual, real smile--and Ferdinand was positively delighted at the slight brush of pink over his cheeks. "I've noticed."

"Please. Feel free to consider it yours."

"I certainly shall."

**Author's Note:**

> Ferdinand's confession box threw me for a loop, I'm not gonna lie. Ever since then, I've never been able to unsee him seeing his hair as a burden, and I couldn't resist doing something that would make it nice for him.
> 
> Also I guess it's a thing for FE3H fig writers to put in their twitter so you can come throw some discourse or ideas at me here: [@kayisdreaming ](https://twitter.com/kayisdreaming)


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